Revelations
by pandapwnage
Summary: Canada was taken from France, but France stole America from UK. What exactly was the cause of this inequity..?


Iiiiiiii own nothing = u = b

Jus' sayin. Characters belong to Hima. :3

The rain fell grimly around the crumbled blonde figure. Brilliant green eyes looked down upon the Frenchman as he struggled to keep himself standing.

"Feh.." Arthur spat at him, a mixture of blood, sweat, and saliva. The battle had caused him many wounds, rendering him drained. Francis feebly looked up from his spot on the ground, the simple action sending powerful waves of agony throughout his body—it was obvious he had taken the most damage from these last seven years. "And here.. Here I figured you would've put up a better battle." The strained voice said, followed by a chuckle.

"Non.." Francis choked before groaning. With all the strength he had within him, his blood covered arm stretched forward towards the other country. "You cannot.. You.." Arthur's thick brows furrowed as he panted, barely being able to stand himself up properly. "Cannot…" The strained voice fell silent, though the piercing blue eyes remained at a glare. A knot formed in Arthur's mouth as he stared at the hateful gaze. Somehow, behind the malice, there was an overwhelming sense of heartache. Subconsciously, his heart soon began to sink the longer he stared. Why on Earth would he be feeling such pity for someone who had caused him such pain? Who had made most of his life a living Hell? No.. He would not allow himself to give in to such petty things. The realization of his own emotions soon took hold, causing him to growl in frustration.

"Speak up!" He demanded, huffing afterwards. Francis balled his hands into a shaky fists, keeping his watering eyes locked the green ones. Agonizingly, he pushed himself up the best he could, mud dripping from the once elegant and elaborate uniform.

"GIVE HIM BACK!" He shouted at the top of his lungs before his head hung. "Do not take.. My light..!" The broken man fell on his forearms as they pressed into the soggy Earth. "S'il… S'il vous plait.." He looked back up at the British victor, taking claim to the country he had fought so hard to defend. "Ne pas le prendre! Take whatever claims you wish, but do not take 'i-im.." Tears rolled down the dirty face, splashes of mud and blood being pulled down by the salty trails. His normally luxurious hair was plastered to his face, dripping from the rain. "Not Matthieu..!"

Arthur was silent as he watched the man weep. This damned war had finally ended, after seven long, gruesome and toiling years. Did he really have the audacity to sit and cry to get his way? Was.. Was he mocking him?

"You really find me a damned fool, don't you?" Arthur shouted, making his way over to his foe. Francis lifted his head, blinking the endless tears away so that he could see through the pouring rain. "After all this bloody time, you really think that going and crying is going to change my mind? Do you mock me, Francis?"

Both men were trembling at this point, one's soul filled with a blazing rage of emotions as the other was overcome with distraught. Arthur's shoulders lifted and sank shakily as he panted deeply, lifting his gun and pointing at the Frenchmen. The blue eyes remained the same, glaring as he grit his bared teeth. "And now you are going to be th-that much of a coward? To kill an already tattered man?" Francis growled. Arthur's hand shook as he cocked back, readying his aim point blank at him. Francis took a hard gulp. "…Fine." He stammered. "Go on.. You 'a-ave taken the only thing worth fighting for from me, you might as well go on and kill me, n-non?" Arthur matched his expression, baring his teeth. After several moments, Francis's expression turned pained, distressed. "I never thought you as a fool, Arthur, n-nor was I mocking you.." The green eyes softened at this, his heart straining at his words.

The two remained like statues, the only two in a several mile radius. Francis knew he couldn't fight back—he was outnumbered and already at his breaking point. The British troops had already taken his colonies in Canada, so there was nothing left for him to fight for. Arthur had succeeded in bringing to life his greatest fear; losing Matthew.

BANG!

Francis remained paralyzed for several moments, his eyes clenched tight as the echo from the gunshot rang around him. Slowly the blue eyes opened wide, looking up at the male with his gun pointed to the sky. "Q-quoi..! ?" He bellowed out. Arthur simply closed his eyes before turning around.

"We shall finish this business another day." Quietly, he lowered his gun as he left the scene. There was no point in killing him, at least not yet. This was just the beginning of his revenge, so why kill it now? He had gained Canada, France's jewel, which more than greatly pleased him. No longer could he sit there and pick on him, like back in the olden days. He was much stronger, more skilled, and soon he will have an even bigger army at his disposal.

The corners of his lips began to twist into a smirk as his mind began to rush through the different ideas for the future. Now that he knew full and well just how much Matthew truly meant to Francis, he could use this to his advantage. But.. But just how, exactly? The North America was now predominately under his rule, so no worries on any attacks from the France again for a good while.

As Arthur continued back to his camp, Francis had remained in the same spot, starring after the vanishing figure. When the figure faded, so did the disbelief of he being alive, clearing way for the sorrow so sink in again. How.. How on Earth was he going to get him back..? The thought soon began to grow silent, his eyes blurring. It didn't take long before he fell back into the Earth. Any moment, he was sure, a soldier in his army would find him and carry him back. All he had t do was maintain his breathing and stay awake until then..


End file.
